Last night, I joined
Jen,
Dave & Jen's sister Amy to go and see
New Leaf's production of "Touch". When the show was over, we were all smushed into Amy's car, and Jen asked all of us what we thought - we all agreed that we needed some time to let the show "marinate" in us, if you will.
For me, the answer is simple and yet complex. I loved it and hated it equally. I loved the show and the performances were absolutley outstanding. I hated that it completely knocked me sideways. I cried throughout most of the show - I'll drop the tears on movies and even commercials for crying out loud, but it's rare to find a theatre piece that moves me as much as this one did. Which is funny, when you think about how I've always pursued the theatre life, and never tried to do any movie work, etc. I mean, theatre is my life of choice, my adopted family that always hugs me and tells me that I rock. Why had nothing ever affected me like this before? Without sounding trite, perhaps my heart was waiting for the perfect confluence of events to spill forth ragged tears of sorrow.
(**if you haven't seen the show and plan to, I plan on discussing details - you were warned**)
I can pinpoint the moment I started crying. Kyle tells the story of how his beloved Zoe one time came over to where he was sitting one night, amongst a group of friends, and didn't simply sit on his lap, but curled up ON HIM. She then told him that she loved him "...in front of other people!"
I couldn't help it - the intimacy of the gesture just filled my heart to overflowing, and i started to cry.
The loss and pain that Kyle dealt with during this journey was so overwhelming, that I felt overwhelmed for him - I wanted to hug him, and yet knew that my gesture would accomplish nothing, as his sorrow was too great.
There's a beacon of hope for Kyle at the end. Things aren't perfect, and never will be (how honost is THAT), but there is HOPE, which is very important.
Jen dropped me off at the red line, and I sat on the train, listening to melancholy music as I usually do, but this time it MAY have been a mistake. I bit the inside of my cheeks from Sheridan all the way to Jarvis to keep from crying. As I got off the train and made my way down the alley toward my house, the music shifted to The Beatles "Yesterday". It made think of Sara, she's the one who has turned me on (late, i know) to The Beatles, so all their music makes me think of her by default.
I quickened my pace - it was FREEZING, by the way, which is in and of itself depressing. With a heavy heart, I did my usual nightime routine. Put out my bag, keys, clothes for work. Kept holding it in. Got into bed. Sara came in a little later, slid in beside me. I held her tight, as if I thought she might not be there when I let go. I tried to explain why I was so melancholy, and for once she didn't call me a nerd for crying about something I saw. I tried to impart why it had affected me so deeply, but I'm pretty sure I was just yammering.
She held me close and then kissed me tenderly while we made love in the dark.
I told her I was so sorry for being so out of sorts, and she just held me and stroked my head while we fell asleep.
My heart still aches today.
